The Commanders Regret
by The Writing Wraith
Summary: Based in RA1 at the end of the soviet campaign, in southern France from an allied perspective. rated T for strong language


Fan Fiction: Command and Conquer

The Commanders Regret

Based in the Red Alert (one) game, near the end of the Soviet campaign in southern France.

There he stood, Commander Miller, in his office overlooking the last allied stronghold in Europe. In the distance endless lines of Soviet tanks and infantry crawled ever closer. Turning from the window he disgustedly thought of those cowards who had fled to Briton leaving him the scrapings of the European command. Damn them all he thought. His back was to the wall he would lose this fight, it was inevitable, the Soviets had a saying, "No prisoners, no survivors" Again he thought of the British who had fled, who had felt nothing at taking the cream of the crop and leaving the rest to die, French, German, Polish, Greek, Italian, it didn't matter to them.

The low drone of bombers could be heard, and not long after the first bombs began to fall, it didn't bother him anymore, he had faced bombers since eastern Germany, rain bothered him more in campaigns. Soon the wumph wumph of answering AA guns could be heard as they spotted their opponents.

Nowhere to run Commander Miller knew, not for his troops, only the British. Not enough boats they had told him, so they made his troops into human shields for the retreating allies, nearly 80 British. They had wanted him also, but he had refused to leave these fine men leaderless, he owed them and wouldn't use his rank to cut and run, he would die with those who shared his cause and gave their lives. Only his great powers as a Commander had saved him and his command from complete annihilation on the beaches of northern France, from there he had continued a fierce retreating action through all of France, keeping one step ahead of the Soviet military machine.

There was nowhere left to run though, he was in southern most France now and Spain was neutral, not that it would matter to the Soviets and… and the bombs had stopped falling. Soon the end would come, in endless waves of infantry, tanks and death. Already he could hear the guns and artillery of his defenders open up. Again he looked up and out the window and saw the northern line of defense engaged in heavy fighting. He knew he had done the best he could, and nobody blamed him, in fact his troops hailed his courage, but it angered him that it wasn't enough, his best wasn't enough to save the lives of good, honest men.

Still he thought, in near madness, he had a last weapon, a nuke he had dragged across Europe. He had been ordered to destroy it and all others like it, but fuck those high command basterds, they left them to die. The only problem left was where to launch it, Moscow, or London. But no, he had chosen this course, not his superiors. Turing to the engineer behind him he finally said "Launch it, destination, Moscow." Nodding the engineer left the room.

Alarms began to go off as the northern line was finally breached. Cursing, Commander Miller stood up, grabbed several guns off his desk and left the command center, stopping only to send a message to London, "Location: southern France, Content: Defeat. At ten hundred hours on Monday we were finally overrun by soviet forces. Men fighting bravely, no chance of victory. P.S everyone hates you punks for leaving us to die, and not even sending orders, you guys suck." Stepping outside he saw troops running in every direction, and shouting at the top of his lungs he gather them to him and marched them for the northern line. As he marched more and more troops joined them, tanks too, maybe, just maybe, he thought, enough to push them back one last time. Just like that they followed him proudly to their death, with backs straight, and heads held high. Whipping his M-16 off his back Commander Miller shouted "TO THE DEATH BOYS, KILL THESE COMMIE BASTERDS."

They rushed the breach, driving the Soviet forces back. For nearly an hour the line held, and Commander Miller walked the line, raising morale and raising his gun to shoot the Soviets. It ended in a rapid succession of explosions from V-1 rockets. Nearly the whole line was blown away in one swift stroke. The line finally wavered, even as Commander Miller Jumped up, yelled, "DIE YOU BASTERDS" and was hit. As he fell, he finally saw the missile leap into orbit and sail toward Moscow. "Godspeed" he mumbled and saw Soviet troops leap over the dead and race into his base. One of them heard him and looked down, saying something in Russian. "Fuck off commie" said Commander Miller, as the soldier ran him threw with his bayonet and the darkness took over his world.

In London the high command looked at the message, stunned. Commander Miller had lived this long? It was thought he had died on the beaches. One by one they took off their hats, and said a silent prayer for the man. Off the coast of France the soviet forces, who could finally commit to the invasion of Britain, were loading into transports for the isle.

Legal

I own no rights to the Command and Conquer series, it is the property of Westwood Studios and/or EA Games, and claim no right to it. Please don't sue me.

Please don't reuse or reprint with out the permission of the author, unless you own the rights to the Command and Conquer series, if I find out I will pursue it to the full extent of the law.


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